


Love

by LeastExpected_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, M/M, Points of View, Romance, movie-based
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-04
Updated: 2002-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:54:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26542522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeastExpected_Archivist/pseuds/LeastExpected_Archivist
Summary: By T. Baggins.Frodo loves Sam.  Various POV
Relationships: Frodo Baggins/Sam Gamgee
Kudos: 1
Collections: Least Expected





	1. Young Love

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Amy Fortuna, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Least Expected](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Least_Expected), which has been offline since 2002. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Least Expected collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/leastexpected/profile).
> 
> Disclaimer: I no own Hobbits. I no get money. I have fun.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Bilbo relates some very real concerns
    
    
                    He is a very affectionate lad, our Frodo.  He likes to be touched and to touch.  He would make some lass a very loving husband.  But, I see the lay of the land with him.  I saw it early on.  There will be no comely lass for him.  For I see where his pretty eyes stray lately.   The youngest of old Gaffer's sons has caught Frodo's fancy.  And a fine handsome lad he is, too!  A strapping young fellow with golden hair and soft brown eyes.  I may be nearly 110 years old, but I am not blind, nor am I stupid. I see the way Frodo looks at young Samwise, all starry-eyed and  sighing.  I have, over the years, tried to teach the boy desecration.  But, the lad is a hopeless romantic. Of corse!  He's a Baggins!   We are all romantics, us Bagginses.  I've read some of his poetry.  Just by accident, mind!   
            Kisses in the moonlight
            Caresses in the dark
            My love is hidden from you
            My eyes reflect my pain
            I touch your hand in friendship
            I do not wish it so
            I wish your hand to touch me
            And never let me go
                    The boy is in love, or thinks he is.  I know he fears rejection, poor lad.    I know I should discuss  this with him, but what could I say that he doesn't already know?   That his feelings for Sam are naught to be ashamed of?  That his love, any love for that matter, is a noble thing?  But, most people, hobbits especially, frown on any love that is not "proper"?   That this path he has been chosen to walk is wrought with peril?  With heartache and tears?   I cannot bring myself to do it.  To hurt the lad unnecessarily.  Oh, how I wish Sam could return that love.  But, where I could see Frodo's path, I cannot see Sam's.
                    
                    I wonder if I am doing the right thing?  
                    I have contrived every means possible for Frodo and Sam to be alone for a few hours.  
                    It hasn't worked yet.
                    Frodo still glances and sighs and broods.
                    I am afraid to seem too obvious.  But, I am also becoming frustrated with Frodo's inaction.  He is older, he should make the first move.  He lived in Brandy Hall for 20 years, for heaven sake!   I cannot believe he is that shy!  That bloody innocent!   
                    Sometimes I can believe it.  When he looks at me and smiles that sweet little smile and his cheeks are so pink.  Yes, I can believe in his innocence.
                    Then, sometimes, I see the devilry in those sweet eyes and see him grinning at nothing.  Devil or angel?  Hobbit or Elf?  
                    Sometimes I wonder. 
    


	2. Love knot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Frodo reveals his hidden feelings

I never asked for this. I don't want it. It's like a poison that seeps into my body, my mind, my very soul. It burns and chills me all at once. It coils up in a hard cold knot in my stomach and constricts my throat to were I think I will die. I wish I could be dead sometimes. When the torment is upon me. And that is nearly every night now. I lay in my bed and the dreams come. I don't even need to be asleep for them to come. I close my eyes and I see his face. His beautiful face. Soft brown eyes, so caring and kind. So honest and open. His face brown from the sun, rosy cheeked, smiling, wreathed with golden curls. And his body! Softness smoothed over hard muscle. Solid strength. Oh, what would it be like to nestle in those arms? He is younger than I, but bigger and stronger. I know he could hurt me, lift me and dash me to the ground if he had a mind. He wouldn't though. His Gaffer has taught him his place too well. Besides, he is too gentle to harm anything. Not even me. Though I think I deserve it. I've no right to be thinking such thoughts about him. But, oh Elbereth!, I can't help it! I love him! I love him! It hurts. It hurts. I curl myself into a tight ball under the quilts and bite hard on my knuckles to keep from screaming. Then the tears come. Silently soaking my pillow. I can't help it. I can't stop it. But that isn't the worst of it. Even if I can keep still, keep quiet, my body betrays me. It used to just happen at night when my mind would wander. What would it be like to kiss Sam's lips? To touch him? To see him revealed? To feel his naked body against mine? And the fire starts growing down low in my belly and I have to touch myself. I know it's wrong. I know I shouldn't have these feelings for another male. I know nothing could ever come of it. I can't even tell him how I feel. I think if I tried I'd just get sick or faint or both. Why did this have to happen? To me? I tell myself I want a nice quiet life. A wife. Children. Lies! I don't want a nice quiet anything. I want to explore the world around me, see things. A wife? I'm absolutely terrified of girls. Who would want me anyway? Who indeed. Sam doesn't, that's for certain. He's got his life all planned out for him in the form of Rose Cotton. There is no room for me. Just friends, that's all. He'll never think of me as anything else. Oh, please! Please, touch me, Samwise. Kiss me. Just once. Hold me for just an instant. I swear I'll live on it for the rest of my miserable life! I must be quiet. If Bilbo ever found out my shame....? Knew of my evil thoughts..? Oh, that I could never bear! I would die then. I would cut my wrists, or let myself sink into the river and drown, or just go off into the wild and die. Sometimes, I want to be dead. 


	3. Love's rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Samwise discovers new feelings.
    
    
                      I ain't never seen no elves, but I can imagine em.  And I imagines they look exactly like Mr. Frodo only bigger.  I have known Mr. Frodo all of my life and seen him near every day of it.  But, just lately, I've begun to really look at him.   Oh, there be a difference tween lookin and seein, if you get my meaning?   Seein is like what you do with everyday things:  You sees  your friends, the  morning sun, a plate of taters.  You looks at a sunset, or a rose.  Mr. Frodo is like a rose.  One o'them big plump pink buds on Mr. Bilbo's favorite bush.  The one what sits right under his bedroom window?  
                    I really likes to look at Mr. Frodo.   His skin is white as moonlight and at times I swear I can see right through to his heart.  It must be soft, too, and smooth.  Mr. Frodo's never had to do hard work.  He ain't suited for it.  Makes me kinda want to wrap him all up and protect him.  Put him away in a china hutch and keep him safe from breakin.  
                    He steps out into the garden.  Into the bright sun.  His thick hair glows sorta dark brown with coppery shimmers.  Most times it looks black, though.  And his eyes!  Those eyes about undo me every time.  They reflect the bright blue Autumn sky.  
                    "Good mornin, Mr. Frodo." I say to him
                    "Good morning, Sam."  His voice is so soft and clear.  He's soundin a bit strained lately.  He looks tired, too.  Been lookin that way lately.  Tired.  Kinda sad, too.  Some days his eyes are all swollen and red.  Some days he'll not look at me, and barely speaks to me.   Kinda makes me feel funny inside.  Like I done somethin wrong, but can't figure what. 
                    I    went to sit by that pink rose bush.  I wanted to pluck one o'them new buds and take it up to that big green door.  I imagine Mr. Frodo standin there.  And I gives him that rose.  And I leans close and kisses those plump pink lips.  
                    Now, I don't think it's too wrong havin these thoughts.  Longs as I don't act on em.  But, then again, I can fool myself into near anythin, can't I?  Like, I ain't never seen Mr. Frodo in naught but his skin, and I don't really know what's hidden in them velvet breeches.  And I reckon I can imagine maybe he ain't he at all and then my unnatural thoughts ain't so unnatural after all?   
                    Now ain't that the stupidest thing?
                    Imagining Mr. Frodo bein a female tween his legs and male everywhere else.  That's a good'un  Samwise Gamgee, and no mistake.  Ain't no doubt, you dumb ox, what    Mr. Frodo is.  You seen him take a piss standin up, didn't you?  He's got the same equipment you do.  
                    But, he's so beautiful.
                    All I wants is to care for him.  Is that wrong?  
                    Tis when it involves kissin and touchin him the way your thinkin.
                    So I'll just have to be content to look at my lovely pink rose.  My Mr. Frodo.  And not touch.  After all, every rose has it's thorns.
    


	4. Love Possessed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wherein Meriadoc desides to help out
    
    
                    I hadn't seen Frodo for almost a month and the change in him was shocking to say the least.  He looked as if he'd been ill.  All tired and listless,  and sad looking.  But it was Pippin, naturally, who asked, "What's the matter, Frodo?"
                    And got the expected  answer of, "nothing."  and a quick change of subject which our little cousin fell for straight away.  
                    I didn't fall for though.  Oh, no.  Not me.  I know better, I can tell something's eating at Frodo.  But what?  Then it came to me as we were sitting there in the garden.  All of a sudden like, Frodo stopped talking, his body went all tense and his eyes lit up like a thousand candles.  And he smiled.  Grinned  real big like and laughed a bit.  I turned to see what had brought on this extraordinary change, but all I saw was Sam.  Just plain old Sam busily clipping the hedges. When I looked back at Frodo he was watching Sam's back and looking all moony eyed.   That's when I knew.  
                    Pippin seemed to have  caught it, as well.  Pippin's still quite young yet and hasn't learned either discretion or shame.  I suppose that's why he still kisses me in public, even though I've told him a thousand times not to.  But, anyway, Pip's the first to say anything, "You fancy him, Frodo?"  It was innocently asked.  Pippin had fixed poor Frodo with those round green eyes and was smiling sweetly.  I winced and said through clenched teeth, "Pippin!"  But, it was too late.  Frodo blushed right down to his toes.  His smile faded and his lower lip started to quiver.  Then he jumped up and ran inside.  
                    "Now look what you've done with your big mouth!"  I scolded Pippin a bit too harshly.
                    Pippin pouted at me, "What?  I didn't do anything!  I just asked Frodo if he fancied Sam.  What's bad about that, ay?  It's obvious he does, isn't it?  No harm in it."
                    I  shook my head and sighed.  No harm in it.  Nothing to be ashamed of.  But our Frodo has always been over sensitive when it came to personal matters.  Very shy, he is, really.  There are two things he  hides  from everyone:  his feelings  and his body.   Both of which were heavily involved in this matter.
                    So, I resolved right then and there to do something to help out.  Play the match-maker as it were.  But, how to go about it?  It must be done carefully for our cousin Frodo is very sensitive and, dare I say? Fragile?  Then there's Master Samwise.  He's not as slow as he looks, but he might balk  all the same.  Can't risk that.  Bull in a china shop you might say.  And poor Frodo is the china shop.    I was pondering all this when Pippin spoke up, "I'm sorry."
                    "Huh?"  I looked at him.  He looked as truly remorseful as only Pippin can.  "What?"
                    "I said I was sorry."  He repeated.
                    "Whatever for, you silly Took."  I sighed, touching his plump cheek.
                    "For making poor Frodo cry and go inside."
                    I frowned at him now, "Hadn't you best be apologizing to Frodo?  Won't do no good to tell me, Pip."
    


	5. Love's Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Peregrin makes a discovery
    
    
                    I don't like it when people cry.  I wish everyone could be happy all the time.  Save a lot of apologizing, it would.  And, believe me, I know all about that.  Seems I've spent half my life apologizing to someone for something.  The words come easy now.  Sometimes I even mean it.  This time I really truly mean it.
                    So I stood up, squared my shoulders and marched right on in to Bag End.  Right in through the front door.  Right straight through the kitchen.  Right passed Bilbo who was looking rather confused.  And right up to Frodo's bedroom door.
                    It was closed.
                    I raised my fist to knock.
                    "What in Elebereth's name is going on here, Peregrin Took?"  Bilbo was right behind me. He looked angry now, not confused.  "Frodo came running in here to his room and slammed the door. Do you know anything about this?"
                    I squirmed, an angry Bilbo Baggins is quite intimidating, "It's...my...fault, Bilbo.  I said something to upset him."
                    "What on Middle Earth could you say to Frodo to upset him so?''  Bilbo looked less angry.
                    Oh, by all my ancestors, why did he have to ask me that?  What could I do?  Lie?  Easy way out, only old Bilbo would see straight through me.  There are only two hobbits in the whole Shire I cannot lie to!  One is Merry.  The other was staring me down right at that moment.  "I asked him if he fancied Sam."  my voice cracked, "Sir."
                    All of the anger drained from Bilbo's face and then he sighed, "Come away from the door, Master Peregrin."
                    "But, I come to apologize."  I said firmly, "I hate seeing Frodo cry."
                    He put a fatherly arm round my shoulders and started steering me toward the kitchen. "I hate seeing him cry, too, Pippin.  He's been doing a lot of it lately, you know.  Because you're right."  He had a kind of sad smile on his face, "He does fancy Sam, but he's afraid.  Poor lad.  Best to let him cry it out.  Nothing we say can help.  Just something he has to go through."
                    I accepted the hot buttery muffin Bilbo offered and sighed, "But he's almost 32.  Way old to be acting so foolish.  I thought it all got better after 29."
                    Bilbo only smiled.
                    `Well, then, I shall go outside and drag Sam in and shove them together!"  I said thru a mouthful.
                    Now Bilbo laughed, "Oh, Pippin!"
                    "Bad idea?"
                    "The worst."
                    "Well, I feel I must do something to help.  I'll go ahead with my apology, then.  Do one of us good and maybe I can coax him out into the sun."  I got up and went to the bedroom door.  This time I just barged on in.  The bed was rumpled.  But there was no Frodo.  Then we noticed the window was wide open.  "He's gone."
                    "Don't worry, Pippin my lad, he never goes far"  Bilbo said quietly, "He'll be back for supper."
                    I  walked into the room.  Took a look around.  There was something missing.  I knew straight off what it was.  I also knew if I said anything poor old Bilbo might have a heart attack.  
    


	6. Lost Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Bilbo organizes a search
    
    
                    Merry and I practically ran down the Hill toward the Party Feild.  That's the first place Bilbo told us to look.  Nothing.  Then to the bridge.  No.  We even went into the pub.  Merry asked Rosie Cotton if she'd seen Frodo, but she shook her head and invited us to stay.  Merry dragged me out into the rain instead.
                    By now I was really scared and clinging to Merry's hand.  "Merry?"
                    "Yeah, Pip?"
                    "Do you love me?"
                    He stopped and gave me that look that was half annoyance, half love, "Corse I do, you stupid git."
                    "Kiss me." I said.
                    With an exasperated sigh, he kissed my forhead.
                    I was not satisfied, "On my mouth."
                    "We don't have time for games, Pippin.' He frowned, but did it anyway."What's this all about?"
                    "I should have spoken sooner, Merry."
                    "About what? "
                    "Remember that pocket knife you gave Frodo for your last birthday? The one with the pretty crystal handle?"
                    "Yeah. So?'
                    "He always kept it on his bedside table.  Well, it was gone and I'm afraid.."
                    Merry grabbed my arms and shook me, "Stop that!  So, he took the knife?  So what?  He likes it!  And i know what your thinking.  Frodo wouldn't  harm himself! "
                    Rain was falling harder.  I wanted to cry because I couldn't stop thinking it.
    


	7. Love's Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Bilbo relates a sad tale
    
    
                    It was Samwise who found him.  
                    My dear boy lying in a mud puddle at the bottom of a hill.  Looked like he'd been there for hours, Sam told us.  I flinched at the guilt I felt for not having gone searching sooner.  Then we saw the blood and the cuts on his wrists.  I knew immediately how they had happened.  Sam, in his naivet, thought Frodo had been attacked, set upon by ruffians.  He wanted to go out and "find the bloody bastards."  It was all Merry and Pippin could do to stop him.  
                    Then I sat him down and explained how the gashes came to be in Frodo's wrists, but not the why.  
                    Sam just shook his head.  "No.  No, sir, Mr. Bilbo.  Meanin no disrespect, sir, but I ain't ever heard of no hobbit doin a thing like that.  No, sir."
                    It was Merry who said, "It happens, Sam.  Sometimes a lad, or lass, thinks they have too many hurts, too many obstacles.  Sometimes the pain is so terrible, they just want to die."
                    Sam looked down at Frodo, "I ain't never heard of no such thing, sir."
                    "And you likely won't, Sam."  Merry patted his arm.
                    Pippin was helping me pull Frodo's shirt off. The poor boy was still unconscious.  Weather from his fall, or loss of blood, I could not tell.  The wounds were fairly deep and still oozing blood.     
                    "What sorta pain could Mr. Frodo have?"  Sam's voice sounded small and helpless, "That twold drive him to, to this?"
                    Pippin opened his mouth.
                    I opened mine first, "Meriadoc, take Peregrin and fetch those healing herbs from the cabinet in my room.  And bring some clean white cloth for bandages, and a kettle and basin from the kitchen.  Quick now."
                    Merry practically yanked Pippin out of the room.
                    "What can I do, sir?'  Sam asked miserably.
                    "We need to make sure he hasn't broken any bones, Sam.  Just feel of his arms and legs, make sure everything's in order."  I demonstrated by running my hands along one arm.  
                    Sam's hands were visibly shaking as he felt of Frodo's other arm, "Seems all right here, sir.  Oh, he's bleedin still, Mr. Bilbo."
                    All the boy's extremities were in good order.  He was bruised pretty  badly, a few scrapes, an a mildly sprained ankle.  What worried me was the bleeding.  It didn't seem to want to stop.
                    When Merry and Pippin returned, I rolled up my sleeves and set to work.  First I soaked the herbs in water from the steaming kettle and, when they were limp, covered the gashes with them.  It took three applications of this remedy before the bleeding finally halted.  Then I carefully wrapped Frodo's wrists with strips of clean white cloth.  Now I set about cleaning the mud from his face and feet.  Pressing herbs to the worst of his scrapes.  Merry, Pippin and I got his breeches off and tucked him in bed.  He looked so pitiful lying there.  His face was ashen, his lips almost gray.  
                    Sam was just standing there at the foot of the bed, in shock.  
                    I went to him and put my hand on his shoulder, "Samwise, will you do an old hobbit a favor?"
                    He did not speak.
                    "I'm very tired from all this.  Would you sit with Frodo?  He will be terribly frightened when he wakes up."  I spoke softly.
                    Sam nodded.  
                    Merry carried one of the chairs in from the sitting room and set it by the bed.  "There ye are, Sam lad, nice an comfy like."
                    Sam sat down and took Frodo's hand.
                    I nodded satisfaction, "Come, my lads, let's get some rest."  And I herded the two youngsters out, quietly closing the door behind us.
    


	8. Love Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Samwise learns
    
    
                    My beautiful rose lies broken and bleedin before me.  His poor forehead has a big ugly bruise.  He looks so battered.  Mr. Bilbo says he done this to himself.  I can't believe it.  But, then again, I can't think of anyone who would want to hurt Mr. Frodo so bad.  Not even that nasty cousin of his,  Lotho Sackville-Baggins.  Corse if I find out he had done this I'll cripple him.  If I find out who done this I'll waste em I will.  Tears sprung to my eyes and wiped em away with one hand.  T'other's still holdin his.  I gotta be extra careful of his poor wrist, might start bleedin again.  It's hard to hold the tears back coz I loves him so very dearly.  
                    I loves him.
                    There. I said it.  To myself at least.  I tried to think of Rosie Cotton and wish her here with me.  It don't help any.  Rosie's one of the prettiest lasses in the Shire, but she just can't compare.  
                    I loves him.
                    Mr. Frodo's so beautiful.  His face so innocent and sweet lookin makes me want to protect him.  I run my callused thumb across the soft skin over his knuckles.  Oh, Mr. Frodo, I loves you.  
                    My chest is hurtin with the effort of holding tears back.  I feel I'm gonna burst with all the feelins seethin in my gut.  
                    I loves you, Mr. Frodo!
                    Tears are leakin out of my eyes.  I'm too tired.  I'm loosin control.  My other hand reaches over and I stroke his cheek.   A finger strays gently to his sweet lips. His dark curls are so soft and thick and I run my fingers through them.
                    I loves you, Frodo.
                    I said it out loud and the dam burst, so to speak.
                    Oh, Frodo, my dear, is it true?  Did you?  Did you hurt yourself?  My dearest dear, why?  Why?  Oh, I loves you so much.  What would I do without you smilin at me?  Without bein able to see those bright eyes of yours?  Or hear your voice?  I loves you!  I dreams of you, Frodo, of us. I dream of kissin your lips, holdin you close.  Oh, and I want to.  I want to.  More than anything I want to.  If tis true you hurt yourself  I think I'll go mad.  For all I wants is to hold you and keep you safe forever and ever.  But how am I to protect you from you.  
                    He stirred and moaned but did not wake up.
                    Emboldened by my grief I leaned over and placed a kiss on his softly parted lips.  He moaned again.
                    There now, Frodo my love, don't you fret none.  Your Sam is here and won't let nothing else harm you ever.  Not even yourself.  I loves you so much.  
                    I climbed up on the bed and lay down beside him on top of the quilt.  I put my arms round him and kissed him again. 
                    Hold on, Mr. Frodo.  Hold on to me.
    


	9. Love's Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Frodo sees the truth
    
    
                    My whole bodyis aching and stiff.  My head is pounding.  My wrists....my wrists burning.  Slowly I remember last night and what I had done.  Shame rises up in my throat like bitter bile.  I want to run away, to hide.  Surely dear Bilbo will be angry with me.  Sorry he ever took me in.  I am more trouble than I could ever be worth.  I am not worth much.  I should have cut deeper.  I try to move but there is something firm and warm holding me to the bed.  I risk opening my eyes and turning my head.  I can't help the gasp that escapes my lips.  He is lying close to me, one arm resting across my chest, one leg draped over mine.  I feel his breath on my shoulder.  I try to say his name, but no sound comes.  Sam.
                    His eyes open suddenly.  Soft brown eyes look at me so full of love.  He smiles and touches my face.  He is speaking, but I can't make out the words for my heart is pounding in my ears.  Oh, Sam.
                    He raises up onto one elbow and never takes his eyes from mine.  Again his rough gentle hand caresses me.  He leans over.  I want the kiss, want it so badly.  For his own good Iturn my head away and whisper, "No, Sam, you mustn't."
                    "I mustn't what, Mr. Frodo?  Kiss you?  But I wants to.  And I reckon you wants me to from the way your tremblin so."  His voice is low and soft.
                    Sam, no.
                    "I been awake half the night tryin to screw up the courage to tell you I loves you.  I promised I'd kiss you when you woke up."  His fingers under my chin turn my face back to his.  I lower my eyes. "You don't have to look at your Sam.  Mr. Bilbo said you'd be feelin right sad and afraid and I don't blame you one bit.  You had a real rough time last night but it ain't never happenin again coz your Sam'll take care of you.  Yes, I will. Because I loves you, Mr. Frodo.  You are the world to me.  I reckon I don't know what, if anything, will come of this but I wants it.  I wants you, sir. I know your Sam's bein a bit forward, but after last night...well, I need to get this off my chest as it were.  I loves you, my dear.  And if you'll have me...."
                    Stop, Sam!
                    I could bear no more.  I shattered there in his arms.  Sobbing and wailing my pain and fear and shame.  Wanting to push him away and hold him close at the same time.  I managed to pull myself up and almost away when he grabbed me and cuddled me close.  "There now." he soothed, "It's gonna be all right.  You just go on now, Mr. Frodo, cry it out.  I loves you."
                    Sam.
                    "And I love you, too, my dear boy."
                    Bilbo. 
                    "Yeah, your our favorite cousin."
                    Merry
                    "Yeah, our favorite! We all love you, Frodo."
                    Pippin
    


End file.
